Monday’s Mantra

I Want to Do What He Does!

Welcome to Coffee Hour @ Chicklit Power and Monday’s Mantra @ Trench Classes United.  I’ve determined in my heart to have a good Monday, and I’m praying you will too. Grab your coffee and join me for another one of my court reporting stories, a spiritual principle He spoke to me yet again, and a beautiful splash of grace.

Last Monday I showed up at my office in LA at 8:45 a.m. for a 10:00 and thereafter, a 2:00. I take the train, which alleviates all the self-inflicted stress and aggravation of driving and it’s really a great way to travel. The only bummer is I have to get up before the birds, at 4:00 a.m., which the older I get, the more challenging that gets! Oops, not being negative, just keeping it real!

Anyway, I had some time to take care of a couple of things, and then I was asked if I could have a court reporting student sit in with me as she needed her internship hours.  I explained they were getting two for the price of one, that I would be reporting the questions, and any arguments, and she would get the answers. You should have seen her face…and theirs! It was so funny and I wanted to just leave it at that, but I’m not that cruel. “Just kidding,” I nearly shouted.  You could feel the tension lift and a cloud of laughter swept the rest away.

The witness was a soft-spoken guy whose consistent answers to questions were “I can’t recall.” Now, inside I’m thinking, well, when it comes time to settle with you, the defense isn’t going to recall how! In other words I was already beginning to judge him….until the last half hour of the proceeding where the truth came out and we all discovered he had had a heart transplant. Oh, my goodness, that explained so much. As I’m writing – with one side of my brain – the other side of my brain was beating me up. There was this convo going on: How could you even be critical of this guy? You know better than to make judgments on others, to form opinions about them without hearing all three sides of the story, defense, plaintiff and the truth.  To say I was frustrated with myself, well that is an understatement.  My only comforting thought was I was so, so thankful I hadn’t blurted out my opinions to our client or the court reporter student.

That wasn’t the case on the next job. Within the first five minutes the preliminary questions are asked, like name date of birth, if she had drank anything of an alcoholic nature the night before – to which she said yes – after learning that she had drank the night before, she was asked what her address was.

“I don’t have an address.”

 Question: “Are you homeless”?

Answer:” Yes, I’m homeless.”

I was punched in the gut yet again with my own critical spirit. However, the rest of the deposition revealed that this woman was/is definitely a victim of her circumstances and definitely is having a hard time in life due to her choices – but that doesn’t meant that the workers’ compensation system should pay. It also doesn’t justify my critical opinions I had no problem sharing LSometimes I wish I couldn’t think during these things, just be completely plugged into my Source.

The next morning in my quiet time, conviction met me, washed over me, and I begged God to help me with this weakness. He is so very, very faithful, Coffee Hour friend. I just love how He speaks to me – He uses what He knows will speak to our hearts, because He knows how we will listen, and when he speaks, there’s no denying His love.

Anyway, He took me back to the night before on a much-needed walk I took with my husband, our two dogs and one grand-dog. The weather had just cooled off as we headed up Oak Glen and then cut into the golf course.  We like to let the dogs off their leashes here and just let them run. It’s so fun to watch. And they know the routine. Instead of heading straight towards Fifth Street, my little one actually led the way and went in the direction of the gate to the golf course. She’s almost 14, and aside from the night-blindness, and the being deaf, she’s full of life and still so adorable and sweet to cuddle.

About ten feet into the course, and surveying the area to make sure no golfers were there, George and I agreed we could let them all go. I bent down and unclipped the leash from my baby, and George had a double leash he removed from the two boys. I never tire of watching each of them, different in their personalities as night is from day. Sparky bolted forward as if being shot from a torpedo, Alvin, our grand-dog, was a bit uncertain of what he was being allowed to do. I swear dogs have a language because Sparky turned around as if to say “what are you waiting for,” and Alvin took off. And little Evinda trotted close by my side.

I stopped to watch them for a moment, and time stood still. It was just a perfect night. I stood there basking in the sound of the warm summer breeze rustling through the trees, causing the leaves to dance in the wind. It was just so refreshing after a long day on the record. And laughter, I love to laugh and these dogs rarely disappoint in that area. as my heart nearly burst with a smile that quickly reached my face. I began to giggle as I watched them.

Now being boys, Sparky and Alvin find it necessary to water every bush, and every tree and I have no idea where they get all that pee!  It’s like a competition between them, to see who can out-mark the other! And then here comes little Evinda (formerly named Baraca’) a safe distance behind them, to remark their territoryJ But the almost hilarious thing about it is she does it just like them; or she tries to! It’s like she thinks she’s a boy dog or something and mimics them, sniffing around the spot, going in circles, crouches down and then finally, ever so carefully and precisely, she lifts one of her back legs and tinklesJ  Now she doesn’t do it every time, probably because she’s half their size and has the bladder a size of a grain of pepper, but when she does it, it’s so stinking cute and hilarious at the same time. On the way back she did it in such a precise and succinct way that I just couldn’t help it; laughter burst out as if contained for too long, belly-hurting kind of laughter that cleanses the soul and just thrusts all cares away.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because that’s the reminder He gave me the next morning, reminding me that He wants me to imitate Him just like my little Evinda mimicked our other two dogs: from the locating the spot – analogous to being on the lookout for divine opportunities to be Jesus to someone – to getting in the right posture – analogous to prayerfully inviting Him into the moment – to letting it flow – analogous to allowing Him to speak through me…which means His thoughts of that person/situation, versus my own critical thoughts! I want to do what He does…and would do in any of my situations He allows me to be present in.

Oh, to be like Him…as much as humanly possible



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